


I'm a survivor (I'm gonna make it)

by admirabletragedy



Series: Whumptober 2020 [25]
Category: Glee
Genre: 3x11 "Michael", Fic, M/M, No.25, Non-graphic description of injury tw, blurred vision, whumptober2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admirabletragedy/pseuds/admirabletragedy
Summary: Day 25 • Blurred VisionIt’s only when he opens his eyes — and sees Blaine hit the ground — that Kurt realizes it was his boyfriend who had lunged in front of him, a slushie — he could tell it was a slushie, now — dripping down his face.That’s when the screaming starts.
Relationships: Background Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce - Relationship, Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Quinn Fabray & Kurt Hummel
Series: Whumptober 2020 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946944
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36
Collections: Whumptober





	I'm a survivor (I'm gonna make it)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song “Survivor,” by Destiny’s Child

Time seems to slow, yet simultaneously and paradoxically rush forward, as the last note of their song fades away. 

One second, Kurt is smirking at Sebastian, proud of the Glee Clubs’ performance, and the next, he’s being shoved backward, a hand pushing against his chest.

Before Kurt can process these events, however, he sees something bright red rush towards him, and instinctively turns his face.

It’s only when he opens his eyes — and sees Blaine hit the ground — that Kurt realizes it was his boyfriend who had lunged in front of him, a slushie — _he could tell it was a slushie, now_ — dripping down his face.

That’s when the screaming starts.

It’s terrifying — the sound freezes Kurt's blood and he can feel icy waves of shock flood his veins as he drops to his knees.

Uncaring of those around him, Kurt places a hand on Blaine’s shoulder and another on his bicep; ice from the slushie presses against his fingertips, the cold sinking its teeth into his flesh.

Touching him, Kurt can feel Blaine shaking as he gasps around pained screams; he can see Blaine pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Blaine, _Blaine_ ?” Kurt isn’t even sure what he’s saying, or if he’s even talking at all, because _god_ , his boyfriend’s screams are so loud, his chest heaving under Kurt's hands from the force of the shouting.

Leaning over Blaine, Kurt grabs at his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the curve of Blaine’s wrists, asking him to "please, _please_ let go."

Blaine chokes on a sob, his voice wrecked, and Kurt has no idea what to do.

Thankfully, the others do.

They must’ve huddled around the two of them at some point because their voices are close enough that Kurt can hear Quinn instructing Finn to drive home and tell Burt what happened. Finn listens and Kurt can hear him step away from the group, but Kurt’s gaze remains focused on Blaine, studiously trying to move Blaine’s hands from his eyes. He’s digging his nails so deeply into his forehead that Kurt can see crescent marks etched into his skin, and his heart breaks at the sight of his boyfriend in such pain.

A hand on Kurt's shoulder has him glancing up, noticing that a majority of the group had left.

Santana, whose hand was on his shoulder, met his eyes, “Kurt, we need to take him to the hospital.”

Kurt blinks away the tears that have been gathering in his eyes, he’s long since passed the point of caring if his teammates saw him cry.

“You can sit with Blaine, and I’ll drive. Is that okay?”

Kurt nods, reaching to grab the truck keys from his pocket with shaky hands.

Santana grabs for them quickly, immediately heading over to his truck.

Usually, Kurt wouldn’t dare trust someone with this, but he can’t leave Blaine right now, and honestly, he doesn’t even know if he’d be able to drive.

Quinn steps into his line of vision and waits, one hand on Blaine’s arm, as Kurt leans over Blaine, “Sweetheart, we need you to stand, can you do that for us?”

Blaine nods — his sobs faded into intermittent gasps and shudders — and Kurt forces himself to tear his gaze away from Blaine as Quinn reaches her hands out and pulls him up.

Lifting Blaine is infinitely easier with Quinn’s help, but getting him to his feet is still a challenge, and by the time Blaine is tucked into Kurt's side, with Kurt's arm helping to hold him up, Kurt is out of breath.

The walk to the truck is short — thankfully, Santana had pulled up next to them — and Quinn opens the car door for Kurt, Blaine shifting to lean against her as Kurt climbs in. 

Once settled, he opens his arms, letting Blaine fall into the seat next to him, sitting half on top of him. Blaine's head — still held in his hands — presses against Kurt’s jacket as Blaine curls into his chest. Quinn slides into the seat on Blaine's other side, shutting the door as Santana drives them out of the building.

Brittany, Kurt notes, is sitting in the passenger's seat; Kurt doesn’t know when she got there, to him, time is passing like a blur.

Kurt closes his eyes and leans into Blaine, despite the circumstances, Kurt relishes in the warmth his boyfriend provides.

Quinn startles him from his thoughts as she leans forward, “Do you care if this gets stained, Kurt?” 

Eyeing the cotton-blue shirt she’s holding up — it must’ve been on the backseat — Kurt shakes his head, unsure of what she's going to do.

He watches as Quinn shifts in the seat — her seatbelt stretched around her in a way that must be uncomfortable — and grabs one of the plastic water bottles that Kurt always stores in the truck, carefully pouring it onto the shirt. 

Biting the inside of her cheek in concentration, Quinn touches the shirt to Blaine’s face.

The sudden contact has Blaine tensing but Kurt can feel him relax as he hears Quinn’s muttered _sorry_. 

Realizing what Quinn's trying to do, Kurt moves to face her, gently carding his fingers through Blaine’s hair as Quinn moves his head to the side.

Blaine keeps his eyes firmly shut, but Quinn doesn't make any moves to open them, instead gently wiping the slushie from his face with careful hands.

Satisfied with her progress — a majority of the red slushie is wiped away — she turns to Kurt.

Confused, he furrows his brows as Quinn shifts his head to the side, pressing the cool shirt against his face. 

After a few moments, she leans back and drops the shirt to the ground, “It could be bad if it hurt Blaine like that.”

And, _oh_. Kurt hadn’t even thought of that.

The rest of the ride is silent, only disrupted by murmurs from the front of the truck as Santana drives.

Time blurs — Kurt holding Blaine close — and it isn't long before they arrive at the hospital's entrance. 

Santana pauses, her foot on the brake, and turns to look at them, eyes sweeping over Blaine’s hunched form, “You guys can get out here, we’ll park.”

Quinn doesn't hesitate to step out while Kurt nods, hesitating as he holds the handle of the door, “Santana?”

She raises an eyebrow, and Kurt pushes open the door, “Thank you.”

Kurt can see Santana smile, “Just worry about getting him all better, Hummel.”

Kurt nods dutifully, reaching into the truck and pulling Blaine to his feet.

With one arm wrapped around his boyfriend, Kurt guides them to the hospital entryway, pausing as Quinn rushes forward to hold open the door.

They looked to each other as the door closes behind them, “I’ll go talk to them.”

He sends her a thankful smile as she walks to the front desk, before leading Blaine to the waiting room's chairs. 

Blaine leans against his shoulder, paying no mind to the chairs’ armrests dividing them, and Kurt looks around to make sure no one is watching, before he wraps an arm around his boyfriend, tugging him closer.

Minutes pass by like hours as Kurt waits for Quinn to return and he sighs as she finally appears before them, settling down into the chair next to Kurt and pressing the clipboard onto the armrest between them.

It's quiet — the hospital is unusually calm — and Kurt traces circles onto Blaine’s leather jacket as he answers Quinn’s questions and listens to the sound of her writing on the forms.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Finally, after what felt like hours, a nurse appears in the waiting room, calling out Blaine’s name.

Kurt looks toward Quinn, who merely gestures for him to go; he does, Blaine plastered to his side as they walk to the nurse.

She begins leading them away swiftly and Kurt sends one last look over his shoulder before he follows.

* * *

Kurt holds Blaine’s hand as his boyfriend falls into a sedated-sleep, relaxing for the first time since being hit by the slushie.

_Thankfully_ , Kurt thought, as he traced patterns onto the back of Blaine’s hand, _the nurse had let him accompany Blaine into the room after Cooper had arrived, Blaine's older brother giving his permission for Kurt to stay_.

Looking at his boyfriend, Kurt felt his eyes sting as they welled with tears, he hadn’t seen Blaine’s eyes before they were cleaned but he'd seen them after, in all their red, puffy, and watery glory.

_“You didn’t have to do that,” He’d said, as Blaine had been waiting for the sedative to be administered._

_His boyfriend had just smiled in response, “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”_

Kurt drops his head into the hand that isn't grasping Blaine’s and stifles a cry. 

At the sound of the door opening, Kurt turns around, wiping the tears from his face.

It’s Quinn that he sees leaning against the doorframe, “Santana and Britt took a taxi home, and Burt got a ride here to drive you home.”

Sensing his hesitation, Quinn steps out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Kurt sighs, he knew he’d have to leave, had been preparing for it, but it still hurt to stand up and let go of Blaine’s hand.

Moving a stray curl from Blaine’s face, Kurt leans forward and presses a kiss to his forehead, _“I love you.”_

Kurt looks at Blaine as long as he can but he reaches the doorway all too soon.

Kurt exhales as he steps out of the room, leaning his back against the wall beside Quinn and wrapping his arms around his chest, “It’s my fault.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt can see Quinn glance at him, “It’s not.”

He shoots her an indignant look and she moves one arm to rub at the other, “Did you throw that slushie?”

Kurt shakes his head, “But he pushed in front of me; it was meant for me.”

Quinn moves forward, resting a hand on his arm, “It was his choice, Kurt.”

Eyes welling with hot tears, Kurt steps forward and she engulfs him in a hug, “Thanks, Quinn.”

Quinn shakes her head, stepping backward and snaking her arm into the crook of his elbow.

They walk back to the waiting room step-in-step, arm-in-arm, and with the weight of her arm pressed against his, Kurt thinks things might just be okay.

Quinn turns her head and throws him a reassuring smile.

Yeah, maybe they will be.

**Author's Note:**

> There were a few things that I got stuck on in this chapter, ngl
> 
> • First of all, 'slushee,' 'slushie,' or 'slushy?' Istg I spent way too long trying to figure this out. I've always written it as 'slushee' but it kept highlighting as a mistake so I changed it to 'slushie.' 
> 
> • Secondly, any information on hospitals is based from my own experience, and what I remember. Despite this, I was trying to figure out the guidelines for the age you stopped going to a kid's hospital. I was also trying to research hospital policies for who's allowed to follow the patient into the room. Unfortunately, whenever I tried to look this up, the only results were new guidelines because of the virus, so I just went with what I thought sounded the most logical.


End file.
